


been alone a long, long time

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Friends With Benefits, Helpful Cole (Dragon Age), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: Solas has been alone a long, long time and it worries Cole.
Relationships: Cole/Solas (Dragon Age)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 4
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	been alone a long, long time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blarfkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarfkey/gifts).



It's late, it's dark, and Skyhold, for the most part, is sleeping.

This is the time of night Solas generally prefers to be asleep as well, exploring the Fade, resting his old bones, but lately, he hasn't been sleeping much. 

The Inquisitor had come to him, confessed her feelings, and looked at him with her wide, pleading eyes, and he had to tell her the truth. Or some form of it. She was an admirable woman, brave, kind, stubborn, all things he'd look for, if he was looking. But to enter into anything under false pretenses would be unforgivable.

Since then, he's been… lonely. Not something was familiar with, even though Solas has been _alone_ for a long time.

He should have known that he couldn't go on like that. He should have known the pangs of loneliness would summon attention.

Cole appeared, like he frequently did, and offered an oddly comforting companionship to combat the isolation. And then, he offered more.

"I know. Who you are. I've always known."

Solas nods. It's not a question and it doesn't require a response.

"You won't betray me," Cole adds.

"I might," Solas says, though he's not sure.

The first kiss is nothing more than perfunctory. Cole feels he should, because he's seen it done that way, so he brushes his lips against Solas's before turning him around and bending him over the desk.

Cole fucks him after a little preparation, moving his hand on Solas's cock in time with his thrusts. It's all very… detached.

The second time, it's better. The third time, it's even better than that. Cole's been studying, perhaps in the Fade, or in the tavern, one of Varric's ridiculous books, maybe even picking the thoughts of Solas's head, though Solas has asked him not to.

Solas slowly loses count of the nights he spends not sleeping.

Tonight, Cole has him on his back on the desk in the rotunda. Cole's gotten good, very good, at making Solas forget his problems, his loneliness, his failings, and it's got nothing to do with the powers he has as a spirit, and more of his powers as a man.

Cole takes him to pieces, fucking in slowly and taking his time building an increasing pace. Solas grips Cole by the forearm, feeling soft skin and tensed steel muscles and tries not to make a noise. He did, one night in weeks past, and set off the squawking of the ravens, which drew too much attention. Cole disappeared, leaving Solas to rearrange his clothes and make a run for it on his own.

He allows himself a small groan when Cole gives a deep thrust, looking up and catching Cole's answering smile. His hair hangs shaggy over his eyes and he flicks it out of his eye with a practiced move.

"You look good," Cole says lowly.

Solas isn't expecting words, especially not a compliment. They don't speak much, both out of the need for secrecy and the lack of anything particularly pertinent to say during these times. Cole has certainly never spoken to him with apparent intention to arouse. He already felt warm with exertion, but Cole's words bring a new heat to his cheeks.

Cole sees it, or sees it in Solas's mind, and twists his arm free from Solas's grip. He brushes his hair from his eyes again and takes a hold of Solas's thigh, squeezing, pulling him down the desk and onto his cock in counterpoint to his thrusts.

Solas makes a noise, unbidden, a punched-out grunt. He reaches for Cole but Cole stays out of reach.

"Come apart," Cole says, again in that low voice.

It sends a shudder through him to hear it. "I… Where did you learn that?" Solas asks, curiosity overwhelming him.

"I've… watched," Cole admits, not breaking eye contact. "You stick, you stay, in this lonely place, thinking you're trapped when you're only just turned. If I talk to you, you have to listen, and you'll know you're not alone."

"You could come apart like this," Cole continues. "You've thought about it, about giving in, just letting me make you feel instead of think. Let me."

Cole wraps his fingers around Solas's cock and give one, two, slow strokes, gentle and almost teasing compared to how he's fucking Solas's ass. 

Solas doesn't need to say anything. Cole has him dead to rights, whether he plucked the knowledge from Solas's mind or if Solas is just bad at hiding things from Cole these days, he doesn't know.

Cole pauses and tugs on his thigh again; the edge of the desk presses into Solas's tailbone and his feet hit the floor until he picks them up and wraps his legs around Cole's narrow waist.

The angle changes when Cole starts moving again, and it's only a few shallow strokes before he touches a place inside that makes Solas arch off the table and bite down on his lip to keep from crying out. His fingers scrabble on the desktop but there's nothing to cling to but the sensation. He hits it again, and again, and Solas can't help but whimper while a little spike of magic gutters the remaining candles and sends a brisk swish to ruffle the papers they haven't already knocked off the desk.

On his next stroke up the length of Solas's cock, Cole's grip tightens. He uses his thumb to smear drops of precome around the head and smiles down beatifically as if he's not currently fucking Solas into a trembling mess. Solas sees the shake in his thighs, his stomach.

"Come?" Cole says, this time as a question and not an order, though Solas finds he wants very much to comply. He punctuates his request with another sharp thrust, zeroing in on the spot that makes Solas writhe.

Solas can't get much purchase between the polished wood top on the desk and how he's hanging off the edge of it, but he thrusts shallowly up into the tightness of Cole's fist until he's doing exactly as Cole asked. Come spills down over Cole's fingers as he finally loosens his grip and strokes Solas through the last dregs of a draining orgasm. His thrusts slow, grow shallower, until he pulls out completely and steps back, leaving Solas feeling exposed and isolated in equal measure.

He's back a moment later with a piece of damp cloth he got from somewhere unknown. Cole cleans them both carefully and when Solas stands and slips back into his trousers, he leans in and presses his lips to the corner of Solas's mouth. It's soft and gentle, and Cole probably means it to be reassuring.

Cole leaves without a word passing between them. What would they have to say, really? Solas straightens his clothes again, though there's not another soul around.

He is, once again, alone.


End file.
